Ari\u2019s first day back at school wasn\u2019t as bad as he\u2019d been afraid it might be. Finbar Fenker smirked at him, and even snorted a little. Ari shrugged, but didn\u2019t feel like he needed to count to ten. Luckily, at square dancing time, Mrs. Kirkle assigned partners and Ari only had to touch Flossie Beemis once or twice during the right and left grand. Arden Feeny still glared, but there was something a little less glary about it.<\/p>\n
\n\tWhen the dismissal bell rang Ari left by the main entrance, planning to kick a can back to the Deli by way of Spoke Street, but there was something frighteningly suspicious about the way Flossie Beemis seemed to be waiting…for someone…by the flagpole. What if she was waiting for him? Ari did a quick U-turn around the enormous black walnut tree by the main entrance and headed out the backdoor of the school to kick his can up Duchy Street instead.<\/p>\n
\n\tA tall gray stone wall ran along the west side of Duchy Street as it climbed the hill toward the center of town. A dreary, cold stone wall which separated Daylatch Military Academy for Active Boys from the rest of the town of DiRosa. The same stone wall that Uncle Ellery spent most of his teenage years behind. But there was something drearier about it now. Something colder. <\/p>\n
Uncle Ellery told stories about how the boys, in blue t-shirts and white sailor caps, would row boats on the harbor (Daylatch boys rowed for exercise and discipline) or visit a nearby farm (Daylatch boys baled hay for sport and discipline.) Uncle Ellery said that Daylatch Academy used to be the best school around for hard to manage boys. He said that several mayors and many fine citizens of the town of DiRosa had once been students there. But even by the time Uncle Ellery was a student, things were changing. That\u2019s when Wilton Daylatch, the founder\u2019s great-grandson, came to teach. And eventually, become the school\u2019s headmaster.<\/p>\n
\n\tAri couldn\u2019t remember ever seeing a boy leave Daylatch Academy anymore. And the gray wall, which used to be a favorite nightspot for feisty neighborhood cats looking for a fight, was now topped with an ugly coil of barbed wire.<\/p>\n
\n\tAnd here, at the crest of the hill, was the gate. A tall black gate of spindly wrought-iron with the words \u201cDaylatch Military Academy\u201d starkly bolted to it in tarnished brass. Closed, as always. But, to Ari\u2019s great surprise, it was now slowly creaking open.<\/p>\n
\n\tAri almost never saw the gate open. He stopped the can with his foot, and stared curiously at the Daylatch gate. A battered truck with the words \u201cSneezy\u2019s Feed \u2018em Cheap\u201d painted on the side was coming out. It must have just delivered some of that notorious Daylatch grub. Uncle Ellery still shuddered when he talked about Daylatch meals and the horrible day when Wilton Daylatch had fired the entire, friendly, dining hall staff and brought in workers and a new menu of his own choosing.<\/p>\n
\n\tAri kept watching as the Sneezy\u2019s truck began to turn onto Duchy Street. But the noisy truck, as much as its engine clanked and popped, was no match for the sudden blaring of an alarm on the Daylatch gate, and a voice bellowing, from nowhere in particular, \u201cAttention! Sneezy\u2019s truck! Please halt for inspection! Attention! Sneezy\u2019s truck! Please halt for inspection!\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThe truck driver looked startled, but showed no sign of stopping until a pair of gleaming black motorcycles with blue flashing lights squealed through the open gate, roared around him, and blocked his exit.<\/p>\n
\n\tSomething about this situation made Ari feel very uncomfortable, but he was too intrigued to leave now.<\/p>\n
\n\tA black car emerged from beyond the gray wall and stopped behind the Sneezy\u2019s truck. The man who got out of the car was tall and spindly, like a spider on two legs, and he was followed by a short, scrawny twig of a man. Ari recognized the tall one. He\u2019d seen him in town and in the newspaper. It was Wilton Daylatch, headmaster of Daylatch Academy.<\/p>\n
\n\tThe Sneezy\u2019s driver rolled down his window.
\n\t\u201cWhazza problem?\u201d he hollered.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cIt seems,\u201d said Wilton Daylatch coolly, \u201cthat you may be leaving with more than our gratitude for your services.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cWhaddya mean?\u201d hollered the driver.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cSir,\u201d continued Wilton Daylatch with snaky smoothness, \u201cKindly open the backdoor of your truck.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cWhat for?\u201d hollered the Sneezy\u2019s driver.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cNow please,\u201d insisted Daylatch, \u201cso that we can all get back to work.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tFinally, the Sneezy\u2019s driver shrugged, got out of the cab, and unlocked the truck\u2019s back door.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cHey!\u201d the driver howled. \u201cWhat are you doing in there?\u201d He clambered into the truck, then out again hauling a scrawny boy of about eight or nine with him.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cThank you driver,\u201d said Wilton Daylatch crisply. \u201cInspection is over. Please check your empty crates next time to be sure they are, in fact, empty.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t Daylatch snapped his long, bony fingers. The motorcyclists rolled to either side of the shaking boy, hoisted him by his arms, and zoomed back into the Academy grounds.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cWell Mr. Hunker,\u201d said Wilton Daylatch to the small man beside him. \u201cI hope this embarrassing little incident won\u2019t affect your confidence in our new partnership?\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cFrankly Mr. Daylatch,\u201d replied Mr. Hunker in a thin reedy voice, \u201cI\u2019m impressed by your efficiency. The same efficiency which will, I trust, be used to manufacture Hunka-Vites for Children?\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cEfficiency is our policy Mr. Hunker,\u201d said Daylatch with a thin smile. \u201cDaylatch boys are nothing like the average spoiled schoolchild. Keep them hungry for that next meal, Mr. Hunker, and they will get the job done.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tAri realized, with a sudden queasy feeling, that he\u2019d been noticed.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYoung Mr. Soffit,\u201d said Daylatch, facing Ari with a reptilian smile that was probably supposed to seem friendly. \u201cYes, I know you. And your Uncle. How fitting that you should overhear this talk of two old family businesses joining forces. Hunker and Daylatch. Get to know those names. If you\u2019re anything like your uncle–and I have heard rumors that suggest you are– you might have a future here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tDaylatch smiled again. He reminded Ari of a spider about to bite.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cAnd by the way,\u201d Daylatch continued. \u201cYou might mention to your uncle that his deli\u2019s sitting on a fine little piece of real estate. A valuable little piece of real estate. He and I will need to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tAri said nothing, gave his can a serious kick and chased it up Duchy Street toward the alley he used as a short cut, and down the alley to home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ari\u2019s first day back at school wasn\u2019t as bad as he\u2019d been afraid it might be. Finbar Fenker smirked at him, and even snorted a little. Ari shrugged, but didn\u2019t feel like he needed to count to ten. Luckily, at square dancing time, Mrs. Kirkle assigned partners and Ari only had to touch Flossie Beemis […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[9],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/90"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=90"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/90\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":93,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/90\/revisions\/93"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=90"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=90"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=90"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}